Fifty-Three Days
by Voyagerfictionfan
Summary: Taking his drink over to the viewport, he stood and stared out at the darkness for a while before deciding that it was wholly depressing, he didn't know how Kathryn did it... Set during the Season 5 episode Night from Chakotay's POV.


A/N Paramount owns all. Written from Chakotay's POV and set during the season five episode 'Night'

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 **Fifty-Three Days**

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Prologue

 _First Officer's Log. Star date: 52081.2 It's been fifty-three days since we entered this desolate region. If we want to continue our course toward home we have no choice but to cross it. The Captain has entrusted me with the task of continuing to maintain Voyager's key systems, but maintaining ship-wide morale is proving to be equally challenging..._

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Day Five

19:00 hours. He studied the Captain's silhouette as she continued to stare out into the unending darkness. Her left hand resting familiarly on her hip as it dawned on him that the back of her grey turtleneck and regulation trousers was all that he saw of her these days. And he saw more than most.

On the first day they had crossed into the area of space the crew had nicknamed The Void, she had turned the Bridge over to him. He had been surprised, but she was long overdue a break and he had cautiously judged it a positive, at first. He should have known that something was wrong, his instincts were usually to be trusted where Kathryn was concerned. She rarely took time off and certainly not without being first cajoled by him or the Doctor, when the dark circles of tiredness around her eyes morphed into those of exhaustion. His naivety haunted him now, not that he supposed that could have done anything to stop her, but she had simply left and not returned. All but his most urgent messages had gone unanswered and when she did reply it was usually stating that she would leave that particular matter in his hands. The art of delegation had proved another of her strengths when she chose, and his workload had tripled overnight with the consequence that his Heads of Department were also now being called on to take some of the burden with the added resentment that entailed.

That first week, he had gone to her quarters daily. Whatever was wrong, he felt sure that their closeness meant that she'd tell him, reveal whatever was troubling her when she was ready. But this concerns had got him nowhere and she steadfastly chose not to divulge anything. Avoiding his questions, she simply told him to check the regulations, she could captain the Ship from wherever she liked and that was exactly what she intended to do. He was irked by this position, he knew only too well that she could hide behind Starfleet regulations for as long as she wanted. To his ear, her words were unusually hollow, but he couldn't argue with them and he left each evening none the wiser.

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Day Eleven

Her absence had not gone unnoticed. Their Starfleet training, combined with tact and an enormous respect for their Commanding Officer had prevented the Bridge Officers from asking him, but he could sense their unease growing with each shift that he took in her place. There were rumours, he was sure, and there would be direct questions soon and as yet he had no idea how he would answer their concerns. Not when he hadn't answered his own. In his own way, he was aware that he was trying to shield her from their curiosity, to give her the space she obviously needed, but it was proving increasingly complicated. Especially as she had shut him out too. Each time he saw her, she kept her face turned away from him and he found it almost impossible to read her. He supposed this was deliberate. Not so long ago there was a time when he could look into her eyes and be offered a window into her world; thoughts, emotions, plans. It had been like that between them from the early days, until now. Now there was no such connection, only a barrier that she had carefully erected around herself. A Captain in isolation he thought.

"Is there anything you'd like to discuss?"

Standing in her quarters, in the same spot and in the now familiar near darkness, he wondered again what exactly this was and how much longer it was going to last. He asked the question carefully, allowing only the smallest hint of concern into his voice. Avoiding the use of either her rank or her first name, unsure of where they currently stood with each other. He saw her jaw tighten slightly and she shifted her weight backwards on her heels to straighten her posture. He didn't regret asking the question, but he knew then that he wouldn't like the answer. She didn't turn around.

"Is that all Commander?"

He fought the sigh that was already escaping his lips, as soon the carefully spoken words had left hers. They seem to float into the atmosphere and disappear into a void of their own. The ever increasing void between them.

"I guess it is."

He stood and waited for her to dismiss him as he had done each day since this had begun. It wasn't a formality they always chose to observe, but he continued this being his way of sending her a message that he wasn't going to accept this self-imposed exile without a fight.

"Then consider yourself dismissed."

He turned and walked across the room, pausing at the door just long enough to hope she would register his reluctance to leave. Every night since they had entered this desolate space they had been through the same ritual and it always had ended this way. With him exiting into the corridor and turning back to see her standing, staring out into nothingness. Tonight was to be no different, he realised as the door closed softly behind him.

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Day Eighteen

19:00 hours. Heading back towards his office from her quarters, he thought back to a conversation that he'd had in the Mess Hall earlier. He had been eating a hurried dinner when Harry and Seven had arrived. Seven had completely caught him off guard by asking in her uniquely blunt way if the Captain's continued absence demonstrated her intention to permanently sever her link to their collective. Harry's eyes had grown to the size of saucers. He could admit to himself that he had balked at the unexpected question, as accustomed as he was to her directness. While he recovered, he swallowed his pasta and took a drink to buy some time, but all he could think of was his standard response; that she could choose to run the Ship from wherever she liked; Captain's privilege. All too aware that other crew were well within earshot and how many times they must have heard him spout the textbook Starfleet answer, even though he had no other. He wondered if they suspected that he was as much in the dark as any of them, he hoped not, it did nothing to inspire confidence.

Seven's phrase had struck a chord with him however, and had remained on his mind ever since. It troubled him as it hadn't seemed entirely inappropriate when he had stood in Kathryn's quarters again this evening. He had tried asking her directly and when that hadn't worked, he had tried imploring her to talk to him, offering his services as a sounding board, unofficial counsellor, a friend, but she had told him that she wasn't sure what there was to talk about. He hadn't want to push her further, sensing that telling her the truth about the low morale and the negative effect that her absence was having on the crew wouldn't improve things any. Perhaps all she needed was some time to process whatever it was, he told himself. It was supposed to be a comforting sentiment, but he wasn't sure he believed it.

Just before reaching his office, he nodded to a group of passing crewmen heading into the Holodeck for what he assumed was a game of pool at Sandrine's, wishing he could do the same. Looking at the large stack of PADDS on his desk, he replicated a mug of coffee and sat down wearily.

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Day Twenty-Five

19:00 hours. This evening, he decided to try a different approach - soup. Tired of their interactions being limited to his daily end of shift report delivered in the gloom of her quarters and reasoning that she must still need to eat, he had replicated a taurine of his favourite vegetable soup. He had been tied up in tedious meetings all day and hadn't had a chance to eat lunch and he hoped that they might eat together. Walking through the door, he was momentarily surprised to see that the Captain wasn't standing by the viewport and he stopped to look around. She was sitting in a chair, turned to face a wall which wasn't exactly progress he thought a little sadly. He cleared his throat and she swivelled to face him. He indicated the soup and tried a smile.

"I bought some dinner. I was hoping that you would dine with me Kathryn."

She didn't reply, but fixed him with her gaze, her stare slightly unnerving him. Her eyes flat; disinterested.

"I appreciate the thought, but I'm not very hungry Commander."

It was the longest sentence that she had used in a while, but he felt his heckles rise at the use of his rank again. Four years he thought to himself, fours years working side-by-side each day and she wouldn't even call him by his name. It was the end of another long shift and he suddenly felt the need to be somewhere else.

"I'll just leave it here, in case you change your…"

He bent to place the dish on the coffee table, but didn't finish his sentence as he stumbled in the darkness causing some of the piping hot soup to slop onto his ankle. He took a sharp intake of breath and suppressed a curse as he felt piping hot liquid seep through the bottom of his trouser leg and his sock. His ankle and foot began to sting and then burn painfully and instinctively he took his weight from his foot and slipped off his boot. Soup dripped onto her carpet and despite his reluctance to do so, the sharpness of the pain caused him to carefully peel the sodden sock off too, while biting his lip discretely. He couldn't see much in the dim light, but the burning sensation was getting progressively worse and he realised that he might just be in for a trip to sickbay. The perfect end to a very long day. He reached for his Comm badge, not particularly wanting to walk the corridors barefoot, but before he could speak, she stood and crossed the space between them, raising the lighting level so she could crouch down to look at the foot he was gingerly supporting with his hand. It was the first time he had seen her eyes in so long that he paused, just to gaze at her, watching, almost frozen to the spot, as they deepened with concern. Then he heard her voice.

"Captain to Transporter Room Two. Lock onto to Commander Chakotay's life signs and beam him directly to Sickbay."

As her quarters were replaced by the bright lights of sickbay, he felt suddenly foolish and irritable. The Doctor walked into the treatment room from his Office and stopped short, staring at him in surprise.

"Commander, I was expecting the Captain. The transport originated from…"

Unable to suppress his scowl, his expression stopped the Hologram in his tracks as he limped towards the nearest biobed. This next time he spoke the Doctor's tone had softened and he attempted a smile.

"Never mind that Commander, what seems to be the problem?"

He swung his scalded foot onto the bed for the Doctor's attention. The skin on his ankle and the front of his foot was covered in an angry patch of bright, raw scarlet, the outline of the liquid imprinted on him in the strange, uneven shape of a splash. He could already see several large blisters forming clearly. Watching the fluid filled bubbles slowly rising from the surface of his skin made him feel slightly nauseated. The burning continued to intensify to the point where he was struggling not to wince as the cooled sickbay air merely circulated around the area. The Doctor picked up a Dermal Regenerator and a Hypospray.

"A nasty scald." The EMH raised his eyebrows for an explanation as he loaded what Chakotay hoped was an analgesic into the device. He didn't feel much like conversation.

"Hot Soup."

"I trust the Captain didn't throw it at you?"

Hearing the sarcasm he couldn't help but relax his features a little at the Doctor's attempt to ease the tension. He felt his mouth twist towards a smile, seeing a glint of humour in the situation, despite his best intentions. Maybe the EMH's bedside manner was improving after all.

"No, I spilt it."

"I see."

He inclined his head gratefully as a hypospray was pressed against his neck.

"For the pain and to prevent an infection. Lie back please." He felt a hand push gently against his shoulder.

"Is that really necessary Doctor? I have to get back to the Bridge."

As he said the words he felt his head swim slightly as the compound started to take effect. The worst of the pain in his foot began to recede into the background and he relaxed his shoulders a little, the associated nausea subsiding.

"It is." This time, he was firmly steered to lie down. "This will take a little time to heal fully and from what I hear, you've been on Duty almost continuously since we entered this area of space. I'm sure Lieutenant Commander Tuvok can manage for a while."

He lowered his tone as he moved towards the end of the bed to start to treat his foot, but Chakotay still heard him muttering. "It's not like there's anything out there anyway."

That's the problem, Chakotay thought as he allowed his eyes to close.

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Day Twenty-Seven

05:45 hours. Perched on the edge of his bed, his ankle still sore, he winced as he pulled on his Boot ready to head to the Bridge for the Alpha Shift. The new skin was still tender even though the scald was healed. That was the last time he was bringing her soup for a while he thought grimly. He chided himself for this almost immediately. It wasn't Kathryn's fault that she was struggling as they all were; for once she wasn't immune to what the rest of them were feeling. Pausing to study the regulation Starfleet issue boot, he reminded himself that ever since they had been stranded in this part of space, she had always gone to any lengths necessary to help a member of their crew. She would never abandon any of them and he reminded himself that would never abandon her. He stood up, checked his uniform and strode through the door.

20:00 hours. Tired from a long shift spent staring at the following week's duty roster and completing crew evaluations and system diagnostics in her ready room, he found himself pausing for thought before chiming to enter the Captain's quarters. He was beginning to have a real dread these visits. He sighed, Spirits help them all if they had to endure another twenty-two months of this. He entered the darkened room, walked to his familiar spot and made his report. When he had finished speaking and as he waited to to be dismissed, he regarded Kathryn standing as usual by the viewport. Her shoulders looked slightly slumped he thought, lacking her usual poise. It was a less confident stance and he wondered hopefully if she was coming around to talking to him.

"How's the foot?"

Startled by the question interrupting his thoughts, he looked down and then back up again without saying anything. By way of an explanation, she expanded the sentence.

"You were limping a little earlier."

He nodded and then found his voice. "It's fine, just a little sore at the end of the day, that's all."

"Good. If that's all…."

He interrupted her, suddenly not wanting to re-enact the same scene again this evening, his hopes dashed. His voice was slightly harder than he intended it to be.

"I know. Consider myself dismissed."

He didn't hesitate at the door this time.

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Day Thirty-Four

06:45 hours. A fight in the Mess Hall and it wasn't even 0700 hours. Trying not to frown, he raised his eyebrows and looked across at Tuvok's impassive face opposite him.

"Mr Tuvok, this is a not exactly the best start to my day. Did you manage to establish the cause of the altercation?"

"I did Commander." He paused. "It seems that it was the Falafel at Breakfast."

The answer was so unexpected that he felt sure that he failed to disguise what he was sure was an obvious look of incredulity from crossing his face. "Falafel? Tuvok, tell me you're joking"

Tuvok's expression remained unchanged. Not even a muscle twitched. "In this case, unfortunately not Commander. It appears that the savoury dish, originating from Earth's Middle Eastern region is one of Mr Neelix's more...palatable offerings. Ensign Mannus and Crewman Gennaro had a disagreement over who should have the last piece."

He rubbed his chin wearily as Tuvok continued. "I believe it appropriate to place both participants on report and to suspend their privileges for fourteen days if you concur?"

He nodded. "Agreed. This is starting to get to the crew sooner than I'd hoped. I'd suggest confinement to quarters, but that would only make a bad situation worse. Can you ask Neelix to drop by and see me when he has a chance?"

"Yes Commander."

Tuvok carefully added his PADD to one of the two large piles already on the desk and left. Once alone, he headed over to the replicator.

"Tea - hot. No, belay that computer. Coffee, with milk and two sugars."

Taking his drink over to the viewport, he stood and stared out at the darkness for a while before deciding that it was wholly depressing, he didn't know how Kathryn did it.

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Day Thirty-Nine

08:00 hours. Briefing Room.

"A ship wide Audit? Chakotay are you serious? As if morale wasn't low enough."

B'Elanna angrily slapped her PADD down on the briefing room table, the crack of the metal hitting the table sharply breaking the silence in the room.

"This will take my staff days. Do you know just how much equipment we have in Engineering?"

She almost growled the question at him, her darks eyes flashing.

"You've got to admit Chakotay, it's phenomenally bad timing. Doesn't the Captain feel we're all suffering enough as it is?"

Paris was running his hands through his hair in frustration and no doubt envisaging just how many hours of the Doctor's company he would have to endure in order to audit every piece of medical equipment in Sickbay and in the Emergency Medkits located all around the ship.

He held up his hands in an attempt to diffuse some of the obvious tension in the room.

"Don't shoot the messenger. The Captain's orders stand and I don't need to remind any of you that she isn't required to explain the reason behind this, or any other request, Captain's prerogative. I expect the Audit to start immediately and I'll need a progress report from each department by the end of the day. Understood? B'Elanna, ask Seven to add some of her Borg efficiency to your team if you think it would help. Dismissed"

They trouped out, casting long suffering looks in his direction as they went. He had the loyalty of the Senior Staff he knew, but the junior ranks were another matter, it was as if she was actually trying to make them hate him. He was sorely regretting asking for her counsel now. In an effort to prolong their increasingly short conversations, he had asked if there was anything further he could accomplish and that would keep the crew occupied. They had completed an extensive overhaul of all the major and minor systems and even he was getting tired of Tuvok's security drills. Whether she had actually thought an equipment audit was a good idea, he doubted, suspecting that instead it was to ensure he didn't ask her any further unwanted questions. He hadn't challenged her decision, in her current mood he knew better than that, but as far as he was concerned, she'd just ruined his day.

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Day Forty-Four

18:00 hours. "Commander I'm just so sorry, I….I simply had no idea that it would cause such a violent reaction. If I had known that the human metabolism couldn't tolerate Ju'thorol I would never have served it."

Neelix paced anxiously back and forth, twisting his hands in agitation and plucking at his whiskers distractedly. If he continued for much longer Chakotay thought, he'd wear a hole in the carpet of the ready room, that coupled with his brightly coloured suit was beginning to make him feel dizzy and slightly nauseated, again. He took a deep breath.

"Neelix, there's no need to blame yourself. No-one is suggesting that you would do anything to intentionally harm the crew, it was an accident, you weren't to know the effects. Let's chalk it up to one of the more challenging aspects of exploring the Delta Quadrant shall we?"

He swallowed before continuing. "And please, could you stand still for a moment?"

The Talaxian stopped and turned his wide eyes around to look at him. "Of course Commander, I'm sorry, how are you feeling?"

He forced a smile and lied. "I'm just fine. Do me a favour and ask the Doctor to add Ju'thorol to the medical alert database and ensure all the the remaining stocks in Cargo Bay three are destroyed. Perhaps then you could see if you can assist Mr Paris? He has set up a second Medical Treatment area outside the Gymnasium on Deck Four."

"Of course, right away Commander, anything I can do to help." He scurried out and Chakotay sipped his water and walked slowly over to the replicator.

"Computer, one dose of Paris compound 118"

The Hypospray materialised and he gave himself yet another dose of the most replicated item on the entire ship over the last 12 hours. Paris had joked that if he'd been paid per dose, he'd be earning as much as the Captain by now. A typical attempt at humour in what was a fairly grim situation. At the last count 124 doses of the anti-emetic had been administered with the Doctor estimating that just over two-thirds of the human crew on board had been affected. He was fortunate in only having suffered a fairly mild reaction as his dinner was interrupted mid-way by a call to the Bridge. One of the only perks of his currently extended duty hours he thought cheerfully.

When he felt well enough, he returned to the Bridge. He nodded at Tuvok and Ensign Culhane who was at the Helm while Paris had the unenviable job of dealing with a room full of vomiting crewmen.

"I'll be briefing the Captain if you need me Tuvok."

"Yes Commander."

He took another brief look at the deserted Bridge as the Turbolift door closed. It had started as a good day, he recollected. The much despised audit over and he had decided to give non-essential personnel an extra day of leave as thanks for all their hard work. The Holodecks were in high demand and some of the crew were organising a tennis tournament. At their last stop for supplies Neelix had mentioned collecting a Leeola Root substitute and the relief among the crew was almost palpable. If anything, they Ju'thorol had tasted slightly better than he thought that it would and there was an almost jovial atmosphere in the Mess Hall. At first, the Doctor had thought that the initial crewmen to arrive at Sick Bay might just have contracted a nasty stomach virus, but with forty-five crew down with nausea, vomiting and dizziness within an hour of lunch, it had soon become evident that the Ju'thorol was the culprit. Crew began dropping like flies, Sickbay was overwhelmed and they had been running on a skeleton crew ever since.

He had messaged Kathryn to request that he be permitted to submit a brief report in writing yesterday evening, having felt too unwell to go in person and not wanting to send anyone in his place. Tuvok would have been the logical choice, but he had taken over the Command duties and he thought it would be unwise to let another member of the Senior Staff see her like this. Morale had hit a new low as it was. He hit the chime to her door and entered. She had her back to him as expected.

"Captain?"

"Commander."

He passed her the PADD and she looked at it briefly, before allowing her arm to to fall to her side.

"How did we end up here?" Her voice was quiet and he wasn't sure if she expected an answer. She brought her other hand up to her forehead grazing it distractedly with her fingertips and he found himself unable to stop from walking to close the distance between them.

"What do you mean Captain?"

"How did we end up in this Quadrant? Why did I make that choice?"

She turned towards him and he could see clearly how troubled she was. The harsh, dark circles and creases around her eyes confirmed his fears that she wasn't sleeping. The soup, and the way the light from the corridor readily bounced off her cheekbones, evidence that she wasn't eating much either. He allowed his eyes to skim around the room before answering. The state of her quarters implied that she didn't care much about anything at all right now. He kept his voice measured, sensing that whatever he said wouldn't help her immediately, but hoping that it might start to break down the barrier between them.

"We were faced with a difficult choice, using the means to get us home would have meant harming an innocent civilisation. We chose to stay and look for another way home."

"We chose?"

He knew it was was bait and he chose not to take it, remaining silent. She paced in front of him, her agitation starting to show.

"There was no 'We' Chakotay, I made a choice, a decision that stranded us here and the entire Crew had to live with the consequences of my decision and they still are, almost five years on. I sentenced some of them to die here Chakotay, do you have any idea what that feels like? Those people will never make it home to their families and it's all a result of a decision that I made."

She sat down abruptly on the couch beside the Viewport, almost as if the admission had drained her energy. She dropped her head into her hands and he sat down beside her.

"You're right Kathryn. You did make that decision. Because that's what a Captain has to do. You had to balance protecting the lives of those who serve under your Command with the lives of innocents. It wasn't an easy decision, but it was the right one and there's not a single member of the Crew who resents you for it."

She sighed and turned her face to look at him.

"Then why can't I live with it anymore?"

He didn't know how to answer her and so he placed one hand gently on her shoulder as they sat together in the darkness.

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Day Fifty

11:00 hours. Deja-Vu. She paced back and forth. "...Oh what I wouldn't give for a few Borg cubes about now. Anything for a little distraction. Strange as it sounds, I almost long for the days when we were under constant attack. No time to stop and think about how we got stranded in the Delta Quadrant. How did we end up here, Chakotay?... Answer me."

He sighed. From her dangerously low tone, he could tell that it was intended as an order and not a request. His words were well practised by now, but he wished that he could make her believe the truth behind them.

"We were faced with a difficult choice. We had the means to get home, but using it would have put an innocent people at risk so we decided to stay."

She shook her head. "No, no. I decided to stay. I made that choice for everyone."

"We're alive and well and we've gathered enough data about this Quadrant to keep Starfleet's scientists busy for decades. Our mission's been a success."

"The very same words I've been telling myself for the past four years. But then we hit this Void and I started to hear how empty those words sound."

He struggled to keep his voice even. "Kathryn."

Please don't do this. Please don't punish yourself repeatedly for the decision any decent human and Starfleet Captain would have made. Find a way to make peace with this path.

She continued, in full flow now. "I made an error in judgement Chakotay. It was short-sighted and it was selfish, and now all of us are paying for my mistake. So if you don't mind Commander, I'll pass on that little game. And I'll leave shipboard morale in your capable hands. If the crew asks for me, tell them the Captain sends her regards."

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14:00 hours. He was in the corridor on his way from the Holodeck, when the ship suddenly shook and then he was plunged into total darkness.

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Day Fifty-One

18:00 hours, the Briefing Room.

Chakotay looked across at Tuvok before he started to speak, the Vulcan's eyes met his briefly in an unspoken gesture of support. Standing, he addressed each of the Senior Staff in turn.

"First of all, I want to make it clear that this conversation does not leave this room. It will not be mentioned in any logs and all records will be deleted from the Computer's database. Tuvok and I expect strict confidentiality to be maintained. Is that understood?"

Heads nodded and he heard quiet, anxious, murmurs of agreement. Their faces solemn, they watched as Tuvok also rose from his seat.

"The Commander and I have reason to believe that the Captain will suggest a solution to the problem with the Malon that will involve her remaining behind in a shuttle in order to collapse the vortex after Voyager has passed through it. We..."

"Alone, in the Void? That's crazy, we can't let her do that."

Apparently unable to restrain herself, B'Elanna leapt to her feet, her Klingon temperament making it impossible to contain her thoughts. Tuvok calmly fixed her with his stare and waited until she softened her posture and started to return to her seat. He lifted one eyebrow and then opened his mouth to complete his sentence, but was interrupted again, this time by a slightly distraught looking Harry.

"Why would she do that? Why would she choose to leave Voyager?"

Feeling slightly sorry for Tuvok, he decided to intervene. He chose his words with care so as not to heighten the tension.

"Being in this void has given the Captain time to...re-evaluate the choice she made to destroy the Caretaker's Array four years ago. She now believes that her decision was in error. And that the consequences of that error are being felt by the entire crew. Remaining behind in the Void is her way of..."

"Atoning for her mistake?"

Paris' insight into Kathryn's character didn't surprise him, completing the sentence before he had the chance to. Sitting forward, the pilot placed his palms on the table.

"We can't let her do this Chakotay. It's a suicide mission. Tell me that's why we're here."

"He's right Commander. There must be another way, leaving the Captain behind is simply not an option." Neelix was shoulder to shoulder with Tom. Seven then chimed in for good measure.

"Leaving without the Captain would be inefficient."

Chakotay smiled at their unanimous, unequivocal support and indicated for them all to sit down.

"At ease everyone. Mr Paris is correct, we're not about to let her do this. That's exactly why Tuvok and I asked you here. Now that I know I can count on your full support, I must warn you that it may necessitate disobeying a direct order. I'll understand if anyone feels they can't do that. He cast a glance around the table. No-one moved a muscle and he thought he saw Harry hold his breath. He put them out of their misery.

"Right, I need a Plan B and a good one. If it's not watertight, she won't go for it."

He smiled as the atmosphere in the room relaxed and they broke into small discussion groups. PADDs were retrieved, schematics displayed and united with by purpose they were clearly passionate about, he could virtually see the formation of a plan before his eyes. He turned to Tuvok.

"Do you think the Captain will forgive us?"

Tuvok raised an eyebrow. "I believe so Commander. It would be illogical to throw the entire Senior Staff into the Brig."

He felt his face break into a smile. "And you always said Vulcans didn't make jokes."

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Day Fifty-Three

"You told them. They knew coming in."

Her voice held a hint of chiding, but her eyes told him a different story. She sat down in her chair by his side and turned to look at him, her expression betraying her true feelings. Her lips twitched and she allowed herself a slightly lop-sided smile. The familiarity of the gesture brought a lump to his throat and he realised how terrified he had been that she would never find a way back. That she would never sit next to him and give him the smile he'd seen a thousand times over. In the shadow of the red alert klaxons, he saw the emotion written all over her face. The rapidly drying tear tracks running parallel from each eye. He knew how much the unwavering support of the crew meant to her. Their loyalty and their absolute belief in her, enough to start her on the path to overcome her self-doubt and abandon her idea of leaving Voyager. That and the promise of seeing the stars again had reignited something within her and the relief on the faces all around him was evident in the half dozen pairs of shining eyes that were looking at them. He turned to her and realising that he couldn't very well tell her how much she meant to him in front of them all, he settled for the next best thing and clasped her hand in his.

"Let's just say, I wouldn't be a fine First Officer if I hadn't."


End file.
